


Antics

by ohtheway



Category: Sleeping Dogs
Genre: Anxiety, Betrayal, Conflict of Interests, Enemies to Lovers, Gang Violence, Gun Violence, Internal Conflict, M/M, Murder, Nightmares, Organized Crime, Revenge, Suicide, Tension, Undercover
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-06
Updated: 2014-04-11
Packaged: 2018-01-18 08:28:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1421500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohtheway/pseuds/ohtheway
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At 3 AM on any given night, Wei Shen is haunted by his mistakes. He can practically see the blood on his hands and the betrayal on his friends' faces if they were to know the truth. It wouldn't matter which side, since neither side knows who he is. There are prices to being a double agent, but he never anticipated the cost would come so close to home.</p><p><b>Warning:</b> This story contains moderate spoilers, and further chapters will contain heavy spoilers. Proceed with caution.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

 

  
♣  
 _We're going to the city_  
 _Gonna track this shit around_  
 _And make this place a heart_  
 _To be a part of again_  
♣  


 

 

 **W** hen he signed up for the job, Wei'd thought it'd be exactly the same. 

It was true that he was back on home turf, and most cops were uncomfortable going undercover in familiar territories, but he'd never thought he would be one of them. And, at the start, he hadn't been. Convincing Jackie of his honesty had been easy. They'd grown up together, fucking around in the back streets of Hong Kong like wannabe gangsters. Jackie'd never the smartest of their crew, but he had no way of knowing about Wei's agenda. More importantly, he couldn't even begin to guess what losing a sister to a drug problem did to someone like Wei. That made it perfect. 

At first. 

His confidence turned into pride too quickly for him to catch it. One moment, he'd been a police officer with a clean record – the next, he was more gangster than cop, with blood on his hands and horrible nightmares. He'd seen a man shot right in front of his face, and had done far worse to Dogeyes' men.

The nightmares had started out the worst part of it all, before the guilt had crept in. An ugly thing, guilt. Sifu would have waxed poetic about the measure of a man by the weight on his shoulders. Wei found himself too rooted in realism – or was that cynicism? - for it to make a difference. He could remember the screams, see their faces in his mind. Pretty words would not change the hollowness he felt. They wouldn't change the way his gut ate at him every time he looked his crew members in the eye. 

Jackie had such earnest faith in him. Winston greeted him like an old friend. Hell, he couldn't look Pendrew in the eye for shit anymore.

But the guilt and nightmares couldn't stack up against the twinge in his gut when he thought about what his fake life had brought him. For all of the misery, all of the headaches, there was one thing in the world he hadn't counted on – hadn't even thought to prepare himself for.

“Are you coming to bed yet?”

The voice was so soft he almost didn't hear it, but it still sent a jolt through his core. He harnessed all of his nerve to remain in his seat without panic. 

As casually as possible, he closed his laptop with the HKPD camera feeds still rolling, and turned to look at the doorway behind him. Conroy was leaned there, too bleary-eyed to have seen anything. Wei felt a pang of guilt at the relief washing over him, a sensation that spurred on his internal struggle tenfold.

Love. Love was what he hadn't counted on. He hadn't even thought to think of it or prepare himself for it. At the very least, he'd expected to fall for someone completely different to the man that was practically asleep against the door frame. Like, for instance, a girl.

Wei took a moment to look over the man he'd come to know. Conroy's normally severe expression was altered with sleepiness, his posture relaxed and sluggish. The grey tank top was the same, but the chains were gone. Sleep had black hair ruffled out of place, free of product. Tattoos snaked down broad biceps and teased from beneath the straps of the flimsy tank. For all the stockier man typically presented as tough, he seemed more like a wayward puppy in that doorway.

“I'll be right there,” Wei muttered, forcing his voice to cooperate. 

He needed a moment to get his adrenaline under control, at the very least. Conroy didn't appear to notice his struggles. His lover simply nodded wearily, heading back to the bed he'd come from without so much as offering a response. It was the fourth time this week he'd had to check in with Wei after 3 AM.

A cursory glance to the clock on the wall confirmed the time: 3:45 in the morning. The guilt in his stomach was what motivated him to stand, shutting off the light on the desk. His laptop was left where it was. It would be safe, auto-locked with a 20 digit password until whenever Wei returned to it. His back automatically protested his movement, stiff from hours in the office chair. He'd been at it since the two of them got home at 1:30. Conroy hadn't put up much of a fuss for attention, asking less and less of it over the last week.

That, too, made him feel like an asshole. 

What, after all, would the other man think if he knew the truth? It was easy to guess. Conroy had been the first to question his intentions with the Sun On Yee, lending to more than a few rough patches. They'd beaten the shit out of each other a couple times, even, before Wei managed to win Winston over.

Five minutes passed before he gathered up the courage to step into the bedroom. Conroy, curled up in the center of the bed, stretched a hand out to him. That one small motion was all it took to push the dark at bay. He gave a soft smile, slipping into the bed beside his lover.

“I keep making you wait,” he joked, a soft apology in his tone. “I'm sorry. I'm a terrible boyfriend, I should have warned you.”

“S'nothing to be sorry about,” came the muffled return, Conroy's face half buried into a pillow. That outstretched arm ensnared Wei, wrapping around his midsection securely. It made him feel like an oversized teddy bear. “Y'need to sleep ev'ntually.”

“I know,” he whispered back, stroking his fingers through the dozing man's hair. He was rewarded with a tired hum of approval. 

A few minutes passed that way. Conroy shifted closer in his sleep and nuzzled into Wei's chest. Wei, still awake, felt his heart flutter in response. They'd only been doing the sleepover routine for two weeks, an accidental habit that started after a night of drinking. Sleeping beside someone else was a feeling that Wei hadn't enjoyed for too long of a time. His undercover jobs meant sharing personal space was too much of a risk, most times... 

Which made it highly ironic that he'd opened his bed to someone that once tried to kill him.

It wasn't until nearly five in the morning that he found rest at last. After spending an hour listening to his lover's steady exhale, sleep was a welcome friend. He closed his eyes and let himself drift.


	2. Chapter 2

♣

_You're weightless, semi-erotic_  
 _You need someone to take you there, saying_  
 _Hey, why can't we look the other way?_  
 _Why can't we just play the other game?_  
 _Why can't we just look the other way?_

♣

 

 

 **T** he first thing he became aware of was the fact that he couldn't move. His limbs were stretched taught across the surface of a table, but an overhead light blinded him as soon as he opened his eyes. In his chest, his heart hammered.

No. _Fuck_ no.

He yanked hard with his left wrist, trying to put a brave face on his panic, but nothing gave. There was something tight holding him in place, as if he was tethered to the table. No matter how much he blinked, he couldn't stop his eyes from watering.

His mind raced. Where was he? How had this happened? How had he been caught unaware? It was only when he heard footsteps approaching that his sight adjusted at last. Finally, he recognized his surroundings and felt his stomach drop.

The Golden Koi. He was in the fucking Golden Koi. The table he was strapped to was none other than the Water Street Gang's usual meeting table, tucked into the back of Mrs. Chu's restaurant. Which meant...

Those footsteps stopped in the doorway, Wei's heart stopping with them. He couldn't see who it was, but somehow he knew.

_Of course._

"Baby," he started, finding his throat dry and raw like a fucking desert. Now that he was paying attention, he thought he tasted blood. His lip ached, but he couldn't remember being in a fight. Everything threatened to spin.

"I knew you were a fucking cop."

The words sent an ice cold chill through his blood, racing down his spine and into his stomach. Conroy's voice was a low croon, heavily accented, and tainted with suspicion. It tore him up almost as much as it terrified him. Out of panic, he struggled with the binds.

The adrenaline crept into his voice, spiking it higher than he would've liked. "I'm not a fucking cop, baby, let me go. You're making a mistake. Where's Winston?"

If Conroy was acting on his own, maybe there was still a chance to reach him, to calm the whole thing down before it exploded. After all, the younger man wouldn't want to hurt him - not after everything they'd been through together. Right? He'd made sure that the other man never went down for anything. He'd made sure to keep Conroy out of the way. He'd even been loyal to Winston, to Jackie, to the rest of his close friends in the Sun On Yee.

He could still turn this around. He was sure.

"Winston knows you fucked up Popstar. He knows you threw Ming under the bus for yourself."

Popstar? Popstar happened weeks ago, long before they'd come together. Wei couldn't begin to guess what had changed, or who ratted him out. No one besides a limited number of officers in the HKPD knew about his involvement with Popstar. _Right?_

The fear was turning him into little more than a cornered animal. He didn't want this fight. Some part of him knew Conroy would be easier to persuade, but most of him wished it was anyone else holding the gun. Jesus, even Jackie would be an improvement to the fear.

"I'm not a cop, you got it wrong." His heart was doing unhealthy flips in his chest.

"Shut the fuck up. I knew it was you. I _trusted_ you. Bad enough I got people telling me you're talkin to girls around the city. Bad enough I gotta listen to Jackie go on and on about how you're his hero. Yeah, you're a real fuckin' hero, aren't you?"

There was something wrong about Conroy's tone, something raw that he couldn't place. The more his boyfriend spoke, the less he liked the sound of it. He heard the footsteps again, slow, as they half-circled the table. His palms were so sweaty, and his head spinning. He couldn't find the words that he knew he needed to say.

"It's a fuckin' joke, Wei. This whole thing's a fuckin' joke. And I'm the fucking punchline."

Wei heard it more than saw it, the sound of the shot ringing in his ears. An involuntary noise escaped his throat, forced out with the accompanying flinch, but the pain didn't come.

Conroy hadn't shot _him_.

A much more vicious panic consumed him in light of the realization. He couldn't keep the whine out of his voice when he finally found it. "Con? Conroy?"

No answer came.

He thrashed against the table, pulling with every ounce of strength he had. The binds held fast, his only success in rocking the old table back and forth. Tears streamed down his face, the light burning into his eyes. No, not like this. It was **not** supposed to end like this.

 

♣♣♣♣

 

 **H** e woke up in a flurry of panic, arms lashing out. The flimsy white tank top he'd worn to bed clung to his skin with sweat. Even the sheets bunched around him felt soaked in it, and the feeling caused his heart to race. At first, his half-asleep mind assumed it to be blood - more than enough things had happened where he'd ended up covered in the stuff - but even if it was only a gut reaction, it was fuel to a fire that didn't need stoking.

His gut twisted painfully with anxiety.

Beside him, stirring from the commotion, Conroy sat up. The clock on the nightstand read 5:17 AM in angry, digital typeface. Wei felt the hand settle on his shoulder before he dared to look at the other man. With all of the things he was feeling, and the future he wouldn't be able to escape, it was that much more difficult to look his lover in the eye.

Thankfully, looking Conroy in the eye turned out to not be necessary. The younger man slipped his arms around Wei, pulling him back down into the bed. Wei followed the motion, more out of not bothering to resist.

He tucked his head into his boyfriend's chest, inhaling deeply while his pulse settled. The smell of sweat overrode any reassurance he'd gain from the action. Conroy wasn't keen to let him go easily, not until he perceived Wei as being safe. When he finally asked the question on his mind, it was in half-mumbled Cantonese.

" **Another nightmare?** "

Wei nodded, his throat working to form a response. He could barely breathe, let alone speak. And what could he possibly say to keep explaining the nightmares? It wasn't as if Conroy wouldn't believe him. They were past the suspicion. The problem was the guilt that threatened to eat him, and it was the guilt that was facilitating even more nightmares. The loop felt complete, without end, and damning. When he managed to get his voice, it was after a half-minute struggle to swallow his heart back down to where it belonged.

" **I'll survive it** ," he said. Cantonese wasn't so comfortable for him when he'd spent so long in the States, but he used it for the sake of sparing Conroy translation. He shifted a little, hoping the movement would help convince his lover. The younger man had a firm grasp around his waist that wouldn't be easy to break otherwise - and he didn't have it in him to try. "Baby, **I gotta take my shirt off.** "

It took another moment of quiet bribing before he was released long enough to strip the soaked fabric off. The sheets would be left until morning. Conroy wouldn't be able to be convinced to leave the bed, and Wei didn't have the energy.

 

♣♣♣♣

 

 **B** y breakfast, it was business as usual. Between the two of them, Conroy was the only one who'd gotten proper sleep, which made it hard for Wei not to scowl as they sat down opposite of one another. Like most days, neither one of them wanted to cook anything, and they'd gone out for breakfast. The small diner was nothing compared to The Golden Koi, but Mrs. Chu's voice was not something Wei wanted to hear after a long night. However, it _was_ in the heart of Sun On Yee territory, and directly under Winston's command, meaning they were highly unlikely to be bothered.

Unfortunately, what it lacked was any real aesthetic to cheer up the mood. The tables were only passably clean while at the same time as being a questionable shade of grey. To Wei, it looked as though they might have been a sandalwood shade at one point in time. Adding in the fact that they clashed with the mossy green rug, yellowish hanging lights, and red-orange booth seats, and he was getting a headache.

He rubbed his eyes with the bases of his palms while Conroy ordered coffee for the both of them. Knowing that his new lover was watching him, Wei dropped his hands to the table and offered the waitress a squinting smile. The reflection of sunlight off the dingy wood made his eyes burn, but he endured.

“Eggs, bacon, a side of toast,” he said, before she could ask. Mostly, he hoped cutting her off at the pass would speed up her retreat from the table. He wasn't in any kind of mood to be entertaining others, even if they had gone out in public. Every inch of his mind felt rubbed raw.

“What sort of toast?” she asked. Wei paused to look her over. She was around sixty, with a short bob haircut run rife with grey-white streaks, and wore a green apron that looked like it'd been through eighty wash cycles too many. He was momentarily surprised it could still be worn at all.

“Ah, whatever's fine.” He sent a glance back to Conroy, giving him a silent go-ahead.

While listening to his partner list off the order, he took stock of the younger man. His lover was dressed in the usual tank top, wearing gold chains and a black watch that Wei'd given him just last week. Neither one of them was the sort to pay attention to anniversaries, really, but Wei tried to show his appreciation. Some nights, he even came close to forgetting how drastically he was in over his head. It wasn't easy to forget the anxiety, but the comfort that Conroy provided went a long way. The warmth of skin against his - the soft, drunken kisses of a moping puppy that had been scolded one too many times... He had become increasingly fond, which made him increasingly on edge any time he remembered his real job.

Unlike Wei, Conroy seemed absent of restless thoughts. The younger man never questioned the nightmares, never berated him for coming to bed late. Like a faithful dog, he stayed by Wei's side, even when it meant he got little sleep. Wei had to wonder what had turned Conroy from hellbent on seeing him dead, to the most dedicated lover he'd ever had.

He considered that train of thought for a moment, watching the waitress turn and walk away from their table. Conroy _was_ the best he'd ever had. Maybe not in bed - he couldn't really compare between the other man and his previous partners, all women - but most definitely the only person he'd felt so comfortable with.

And it was going to fuck him over, sooner or later.


End file.
